Coming to Terms
by always krissy
Summary: Some things are easier to deal with when they have *some* kind of closure. [MOVIE: Disney's Eddie's Million Dollar Cook-Off (Eddie/DB, Eddie/Bridget implied, 1/1, PG-13ish)]


TITLE: Coming to Terms  
AUTHOR: always krissy  
DISCLAIMER: This movie belongs to Disney, not me. I don't claim to own it at all. Although I'd love to. :D The lyrics at the beginning of the fic is from Avril's 'Complicated.'  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I am beyond obsessed. I have seen the movie seven times now, and I taped it, and just... I am in love with the idea of this movie. I really hope the movie is lucky enough for a sequel, but somehow I doubt it will be. *whines* This is just drabble, by the way. :D 718 words.  
FANDOM: _Eddie's Million Dollar Cook-Off_ (July 2003's Disney Movie of the Month)  
PAIRING: Eddie/DB, Eddie/Bridget implied  
RATING: PG-13ish, but could be PG  
ARCHIVE: If you want it, please take it. :D 

  
_Tell me  
Why'd have to go and make things so  
Complicated, see the way you're acting  
Like you're somebody, gets me frustrated_

"You act like I've changed." 

DB snorted, and for the first time since he'd known Eddie, he wanted to hit him. "Duh. You _have_ changed." _And it isn't a good change_, he thought bitterly. Ever since the cook-off, three weeks previous, it was nothing but cook this, and cook that, and 'I wonder what Bridget would do . . .' Granted, Bridget was bearable, now that she and Eddie had 'bonded,' according to them, but DB still couldn't get past the way she'd been bitchy to them in the beginning. How could something that big be forgivable so easily? And it was so hard to talk to Eddie now. He had little interest in baseball, and never went to the weekly practices they had started to keep in game form. And he hardly paid attention to the REAL games on the TV, and it was just awful. He'd hardly seen Eddie in the near month. Only when _Bridget_ was busy. 

"But I haven't," Eddie protested, eyes wide. "I still love baseball. I still love hangin' out with you. And with Frankie." 

"When we're together, all you talk about is Home Ec homework, or about trying some new recipe you found in your mom's cookbook. Or BRIDGET." 

"Yeah, well . . ." Eddie shrugged, uncomfortably, and then sighed. "Look, I like Bridget, okay? Once you get past her bad side, she's actually quite cool." 

"'Quite cool,' he says. God, you HAVE changed." DB gave him a disgusted glance. "Before you turned sissy on us, you would have just socked her for trying to manipulate you." 

There was a startled silence. 

"I would never hit a girl." 

"It's a figure of speech, you idiot." 

It was frustrating to speak to DB these days. He'd always understood his best friend before. Before, it was easy to know where he was coming from. He understood his reasoning, and his how's, and everything in between. But now, he couldn't even pick out who he was. He wasn't so much _violent_, just _angry_, and then food fights would break out; like when they fought, just a few weeks ago. He shuddered at the memory. That was such an awful turning point in their friendship. 

And Eddie sighed. It wasn't like a normal "I'm-exasperated-with-DB-and-he's-annoying" sigh, but a tired one. He was tired of trying to figure out his friend, and wonder at which point another disaster would strike. "I give up," he stated, as calmly as he could muster. "I just . . . give up. I'm not going to fight with you anymore." 

"So what, that's it?!" 

"Yes." 

DB blew out a breath of hot air and just stared straight ahead, not looking at Eddie, at the wall, at anything. He could tell that Eddie wasn't being _totally_ serious. There had to be a little bit of hope . . . If he said the right thing, or asked the right thing, maybe everything would be okay again. He had to _try_. "Do you love her?" 

"What?" 

"Do you love her. You know, Bridget." 

"I . . . No." 

There was a long pause, and DB still didn't look at him. He couldn't decide if he believed him, or if he really _should_ just sock in the nose, or just let him give up. All three reactions would serve him well, if that's really how he felt . . . 

"Okay. Good." 

"Look, DB . . ." Eddie took a deep breath, and gave him a lopsided grin. "You're my best friend, _no matter what_. If I decided that I loved someone, you'd be the first to know. Really," he added, at the doubtful look. 

"Yeah, sure." DB shrugged the assurance off and turned to leave, but Eddie grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. "Let me go!" 

"No." 

"Let. Me. Go." Each word was emphasized with a jerk of his arm. 

Instead of doing what was asked, Eddie jerked him forward, and DB found himself sprawled in Eddie's arms. 

"Uh." 

And then Eddie was kissing him, and DB was lost in the sensation, unable to respond, but unable to pull away. And when they parted . . . 

Pure emotion, and a flying fist, and a satisfying crunch. Eddie stumbled backwards, his right hand covering his nose, and his mouth was frozen in a shocked 'o,' like he couldn't believe what just happened. 

Stuttered, "DB?" 

"What took you so long?" 


End file.
